


Arsenic and Old Spice

by Denois



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Background or minor original characters, Bitty isn't a hero in this, Implied past Jack Zimmermann/Kent Parson - Freeform, Implied unrequited Eric "Bitty" Bittle/Jack Zimmermann, M/M, Minor Byron "Shitty" Knight, Not scary, There's a bunch of fluff too, There's not really graphic violence, Vicky Poindexter - Freeform, but it's angsty because it's a murder fic, canon typical cursing, happy ending for NurseyDex, minor Jack Zimmermann, people die, see end notes for which characters die
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:00:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 16,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27323905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Denois/pseuds/Denois
Summary: Writer and notorious marriage detractor Derek Nurse falls for boy-next-door Will Poindexter. Before breaking the news to their family, they take a vacation to celebrate the engagement, only to realize there's more to this Bed and Breakfast than meets the eye.Pie for breakfast (lunch and dinner), disappearing guests, a body in the window seat, and a cop who insists their report is defamation of character are enough to make them want to check out for good, but when a friendly California man checks in alone, they decide they need to try to help keep him from becoming the next missing person in this quiet Massachusetts town.Can they solve the mystery and bring a killer to justice before their new friend becomes the next victim?NOTE: Chapters 1-6 are pretty much just normal fluffy fic, if you want to read the falling for each other bit without the mystery bit, those are safe.
Relationships: Chris "Chowder" Chow/Caitlin Farmer, Derek "Nursey" Nurse/William "Dex" Poindexter
Comments: 4
Kudos: 30





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [Draskireis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/draskireis) and [Lynewt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lynewt) for cheering me along. 
> 
> I apologize if this is incoherent, I wrote 12k of it in the last 3 days to try to get it ready to post for Halloween and technically, it's not anymore here, but it is somewhere, and that's all that matters to me right now.
> 
> I'm not sure if this would be better or worse if I'd actually seen Arsenic and Old Lace. It's very loosely based off of a plot synopsis of the same and only because I liked the way the play on the name sounded and Draskireis is a terrible terrible enabler.
> 
> See the [end notes for chapter 13](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27323905/chapters/66758857#chapter_13_endnotes) if you want a warning on who dies and who's the killer. (It's not a terribly well hidden mystery, but still)

It wasn’t a tragedy when Derek’s relationship with Ricardo ended. It was just the way of relationships. They started, they were fun or useful, and then they eventually ended. It was best to let them end when they should. He’d seen a lot of people end up hurt trying to keep a relationship going after its time.

Happily Ever After was for books and fairy tales. In the real world, the best anyone could hope for was Happy For Now, and Derek had no problems with recognizing when the happiness ended and it was time to move on.

Ricardo had either something or someone he’d rather do and Derek wanted to get out of the city and stay someplace quiet to focus on his writing for a while. So Derek updated his relationship status on social media and moved to a sick cabin in the Maine woods and Ricardo disappeared from his contact list and his life.

The cabin was perfect, definitely mad sick. It was fully kitted out with marble and granite features and deep plush rugs and cozy chairs. But best of all, it had giant windows with window seats where he could read or write and be inspired by the huge wilderness outdoors. The nearest town was miles away. He didn’t get cell service, but that was one of the reasons he’d picked the place. He needed a new angle for his next book. He needed to disconnect and avoid constant badgering about drafts and invitations to functions that prevented him from completing those drafts. 

He needed quiet.

He kind of hated the quiet. 

Like, yeah, it was great for his writing. And he had plenty of books. And he had a landline phone, so he could call people if he wanted to. He just missed seeing people. 

It was simple enough to solve this problem by scheduling a weekly trip to the town. It was too far away to justify driving in more frequently, but he did need to pick up groceries and other supplies. Plus, the town did have a lovely little library and his weekly trips gave him an excuse to visit and peruse the shelves and chat with the librarian. 

A little over a month after moving in, disaster struck. He opened the lid of the washing machine to find it full of clothes soup. He was fairly certain that washing machines were not supposed to make clothes soup. They were supposed to make clean clothes. 

He pulled one of his favorite pairs of jeans out of the machine and tried to squeeze the water out. They felt like they weighed a hundred pounds, but probably it was only like, maybe, fifty. He didn’t know. He was an author, not a physicist. It took ages to dig around in the cold soupy machine water and pull out all of his clothes, then wring them out and move them to the dryer. He had to run the dryer three times before everything was dry. 

Apparently, he wasn’t going to be washing his clothes any time soon. It wasn’t a huge problem. Like, sure, clean clothes were mad comfy, but he was only leaving the cabin one day a week, so he really only needed clean underwear and he had plenty of that. 

He closed the lid on the weird, stagnant water and made a note on the white board on the fridge to check about a repairperson before he ran out of wearable clothes.

* * *

“Denice, I need your help.”

The library was quiet. It was always quiet. A couple of times he’d seen some older women in, checking out grocery sacks worth of books, and once there had been a school aged kid in the little computer area, but it was a very small town that was lucky to have a library at all, so it didn’t see a lot of traffic. 

Denice didn’t look up from the stack of books she was processing. “I’ve told you before, there’s only so much I can do without a psych degree.”

“Chill. I’m serious.”

She finally looked up at him and raised a brow.

“This town is too small.” 

It really was. He’d driven up and down all the streets in town looking for an appliance repair shop. It had taken exactly three minutes because there were exactly three streets in the town and none of them were very long. None of them had an appliance repair shop either.

“I already told you we are too small if you want to do some kind of publicity event here. I’m happy to help set one up if you really want to, but you’d be doing more publicity for us than the other way around.”

“No. I don’t want to advertise that I’m here-. Wait. Do you need me to do a publicity thing for the library? Help drive fundraising or something?”

“We’re fine. What were you begging for me to help you with?”

“I don’t recall begging. But my washing machine started making clothes soup, and this town doesn’t have any appliance stores or anything. Can you call someone for me? There’s got to be a shop in the city, right? I mean, there has to be something you guys do when your appliances break.”

Denice stared at him for a moment. “You’d have to pay a small fortune to get someone from the city out past BFE to your cabin. And they’d still take at least a month to get there.”

Derek frowned while he considered how many pairs of underwear he had. It was a good thing he’d asked so soon. If he’d waited any longer, he probably wouldn’t have had enough to last until a repairperson could get out. “Chill. Can you arrange it? Or give me the number?”

“No.”

“No?”

Denice held up a hand, then picked up a phone with the other, dialing a number from memory. There was a pause, probably while it rang. Then her side of the conversation was interspersed with pauses for replies. “Hey Will. Yeah, everything’s fine here. The guy staying at the old Andersen place is having trouble with his washing machine. Not draining apparently. Yeah, he’s here so it will be awhile. Okay. I’ll let him know. Thanks.” 

She hung up the phone and raised a brow at him again. “That’s what the locals do when our appliances break. Will lives out near you so he said he can stop by in a couple of hours.”

“Chill. You’re the best.” He held his fist out for a bump.

She tapped it and smirked. “I know.”


	2. Chapter 2

Driving to the old Andersen place from his place didn’t take much time, but the distance by road was much further than by foot. If Will hadn’t needed his tools he would have been tempted to hike the trip instead of driving it. Still, a washer not draining could mean a couple of different problems, so he’d need his tools. Hopefully it was the same washer from before the sale. If the new owner had brought in their own, he might not have the necessary replacement part.

He shook his head. If the new owner had replaced the appliances, he would figure out what the problem was and pick up or order the appropriate part so he could fix it in a few days. Or better yet, suggest a manufacturer’s warranty because new machines shouldn’t be experiencing those issues that quickly unless it was a clog or something. Either way, he’d see when he saw, so he knocked on the door.

The man who opened the door seemed cordial or civil or whatever. He had a chain lock that he kept engaged and peered out through the gap with a pleasantly neutral expression. 

“Uh. Hi. I’m Will. Denice asked me to come over and check your washing machine? Said it’s not draining?”

“Oh! Chill. Right. I’m Derek” The door closed and then reopened fully to show the man smiling broadly, and completely topless over low slung sweatpants. 

Will nodded, then followed as Derek led him through the large cabin to the laundry room. “Good, you didn’t replace the old machines. I should have the parts to fix it then.”

He nodded and leaned in to disconnect it from the power source and shut off the water supply.

“So, you know what the problem is already? Why was it making clothes soup?”

Will had expected Derek to wander off, or put on a shirt, or something. Instead, he was leaned against the doorway, watching Will work. 

“It’s probably the drain hose or the drain pump. Could be a foreign object. I’ll see when I get in there.” Then he focused on running his checks.

There weren’t any kinks in the drain hose, the lint screen was clear, and he ran a short snake down it and didn’t encounter any blockages. It was fine, which meant he needed to look inside the cabinet. 

“So, did you go to trade school or something?”

Will paused while considering the screws holding the back of the machine in place. “So what if I did? There something wrong with that?”

“Chill, Will. I’m just curious. Are you, like, union?”

“I’m not a scab.” He focused on his work again. After a few minutes he managed to pull a pen out from between the basket and the tub and held it up toward the guy. “There’s your problem. Check your pockets before running the wash. Wife or girlfriend or whatever, too.”

“That’s mad heteronormative, dude.”

Will closed his eyes and took a measured breath. “Fine. Husband or boyfriend or whatever, too.”

It was just his luck, really.

“Neither of those around either, but I’ll keep it in mind should a friend of any sort appear.” He took the pen from Will. “I wondered what happened to this pen. It was a good pen.”

Will focused on double checking the pump and pump belt and then putting the machine back together. He hadn’t had to spend so much time consciously trying to focus on a task in years. “You’re lucky. If it had got into the pump impeller blades it could have broken those, requiring a new pump, or the added tension could have made the motor seize. That’s not a cheap part to replace. So, yeah, keep it in mind. But it should be working again so you can wash some shirts if you own any.” 

He wasn’t making a pointed comment.

He was making a pointed comment about taking care of the machine so that it kept working, but not about the shirt. 

“Oh, oops. I’ll, yeah, I’ll be back.” Derek sounded like he had just then realized that he was half naked.

Will shrugged it off and finished getting the machine back together and hooked up. Derek still hadn’t reappeared, so he made his way to the den and picked up the phone, still in the same place as it was from the previous owners. 

“Chill. There you are. Thought you ran off. What do I owe you?”

WIll looked up to see that he’d put on a tank top tight enough to only nominally be not topless and blinked. “It’s fine. Didn’t require any parts. Just consider it a welcome from a neighbor.”

“Neighbor?”

“Ayuh. I’m your nearest neighbor.”

“I haven’t seen you around. I didn’t know anyone else lived out here. I haven’t seen any other houses or anything.”

Will stared at him for a long moment. “That’s because the land around this house is like half the county or some shit. I’m your nearest neighbor, but it’s still pretty far by road. Not too bad hiking it, I’ve done that before, there’s a bit of a trail. If you want to visit sometime, you’re welcome to.”

“Back up. Half the county?”

“How do you buy a cabin and land and not know how much land you own?”

“Chill. I don’t own it. I just live here.”

“Oh.”

That actually made sense. It wouldn’t be the first time a person or company had bought real estate just to lease it out. Hopefully they wouldn’t try to parcel it and build out more. 

“How long are you staying then?”

Derek blew out a long breath. “Until I finish at least one book, I think. Maybe more. This area is mad inspiring.”

Will nodded. “Well, I think you’d make a lot of people around here happy if you stuck around to write as many books as necessary to make people associate Maine with Derek Nurse instead of Stephen King.”

“Wait, so you do recognize me.” Derek was grinning again.

“No, no one at all in a tiny town has been talking about the big shot author from New York who moved in. Why would you think that? Small towns don’t gossip.” He was pretty proud of how deadpan he managed to deliver that comment. 

Somehow, Derek’s grin was impossibly even larger. “You can admit you read my books. I won’t tell anyone. I’m not from a small town, after all.”

Will raised an eyebrow. “No. You’re from someplace without shirts. Maybe if you’re lucky that won’t spread around town.”

“Hey, chill! I’m just not used to company. No one visits out here.”

“You go topless to the library, too? Denice just called me today. They must do things a lot different in New York.” 

“Yeah, well. It’s a _City_.”

“Uh huh. Well, if you need any more neighborly help, you can call me at pound five.”

“Your number is just #5?”

“Ayuh. We’re still on the party line system out here in the willy-wacks.” He shouldn’t be enjoying himself, but he couldn’t help the smile pulling at the corner of one side of his mouth.

“Really? That’s sick.”

“No. Not really. I programmed my number into your speed dial.”

“Oh, chill.” 

“Ayuh. So. If you need anything or want to try that ‘having company over while wearing clothes’ thing, you can call. Since we’re going to be neighbors.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. The wearing clothes bit is kind of a drag, ngl.”

“And on that note, I have things to do. See you around, Derek.”

“Yep. See you.”

Will made it out of the cabin and into his truck. The cell service didn’t work this far out of town, so he had to make it all the way to his own cabin before he could call Denice. 

“You didn’t tell me he was hot.”

He hung up on her laughter.


	3. Chapter 3

Derek spun in a slow circle scanning the trees around him. They all looked the same. 

That wasn’t entirely true. Some of them had interesting branches or knots in their trunks. Some still had leaves edged in green, while others were fully yellow, and yet others were tipping into orange and red. They were all unique and beautiful and gorgeous.

None of them, however, had a convenient and useful street sign attached to let him know where he was and which direction he needed to go. 

Even if cell service worked out there, even if an uber or a lyft would drive all the way out there to find him, he wouldn’t be able to tell them where to find him because he didn’t have any street names. The woods kinda sucked.

He shouldn’t have gone out there. He’d just figured, well, when Will had been over a few weeks before, he’d mentioned that the land around the cabin was part of the property. So, it seemed like maybe he should see it. He still wasn’t sure how much of the land was his or where it would start being his neighbors’. But there’d probably be a fence. He had pulled up the property info and the number in front of “acres” was pretty big, but it wasn’t like “acres” actually meant anything. 

The worst part wasn’t that he’d been walking for over an hour and hadn’t seen any fences or lines or anything, meaning he was probably lost on his own property, or even the fact he was lost. The worst part was that apparently there was some giant horror monster cryptid living on his property. It was taller than his LandRover and had a bush or a tree or something on its head. He hadn’t waited to see if it was carnivorous, he’d just gotten away from it. 

So, now he was lost. 

At least he’d managed to find what looked like it might have been a trail. Probably a trail that the cryptid beast used to stalk its prey, but it was better than not being on a trail. He picked a direction and started walking. After some time, he wasn’t sure how much, he finally saw a cabin through the trees. It wasn’t his cabin, but any cabin at this point was probably good. Will had said that his place was close to Derek’s. He just had to hope it was Will’s cabin and not some axe murderer’s.

Not that he had definitive proof that Will wasn’t an axe murderer. 

He stopped and stared at the cabin with narrowed eyes. No, Denice wouldn’t have sent an axe murderer into his home. He was sure of it.

He was pretty sure of it.

He was sure enough to start walking again, hoping that it was Will’s place. Still, after knocking on the door (there was no bell, why was there no bell?), he took a couple of steps back so he’d have a chance to run, just in case.

He relaxed a bit when the door opened to reveal Will, looking slightly confused, and honestly kind of hot, but not like an axe murderer. True, he was still rocking the lumberjack look with jeans and a plaid flannel, but the flannel was open over a t-shirt, the sleeves were pushed up to his elbows, he wasn’t wearing work boots, and he had a small hand towel tossed over his shoulder. 

“Mr. Nurse. Something I can help you with?”

Derek stepped forward. “Ch’yeah, Derek, actually….” He trailed off, sniffing. “What’s that delicious smell?”

“Well, you did knock on my door at dinner time, so it’s probably my dinner.”

He couldn’t prevent or hide the hungry rumble from his stomach as he sniffed again at the air. But also, it was the man’s dinner. He couldn’t ask to impose on him and his wife or girlfriend or whatever. “Oh yeah. Sorry. I was just hiking around and I got lost a little bit, and… ok, but what _is_ it that I smell?”

Will blinked at him. “It’s just sausage and peppers.”

“And?” He couldn’t help but lick his lips, but it was a tiny movement, imperceptible, surely.

“And garlic bread? Look, you said you got lost hiking? Do you want to join me for dinner and I can give you a ride back to your place after?” Will stepped back, clearing a path invitingly.

Due to a lifetime of training in poise and manners, Derek did not barrel headlong into Will’s home to find the source of the deliciousness he smelled. But he did accept the invitation. Partly, even, because he did really need at least to be pointed in the correct direction to get home. 

“I was, uh, just going to eat it as is with the bread, but did you want some pasta or something? I could make something like that to go with it.” 

Will’s cabin was much smaller than Derek’s, which meant the door opened directly into a den-kitchen-dining area combo. Derek decided it would be most polite to just sit at the table and not explore the other man’s home. 

“Just with the bread’s fine for me. I’ve been eating microwave meals. Not exactly picky.”

Will nodded as he moved past into the kitchen area and started spooning food into bowls and arranging bread on plates. 

To Derek’s surprise, he only prepared two servings. 

“Not expecting anyone else for dinner?”

“Nah, it’ll just be the two of us. Guess I should thank you for providing me company.”

“Chill. Just thought it seemed like a family meal.” 

Will frowned slightly at that, but in a considering way. “No. Vicky’s eating with Denice, I’m sure. No other family in the area.”

Will had dug a spoon into his own bowl, so Derek decided that there probably wasn’t going to be any other ceremony or formalities and he could put that delicious smell into his mouth. He took a bite and the moan that he let out immediately after was probably just this side of indecent. 

When Derek looked up, Will was slightly pink. It made sense, really. The food was pretty spicy. He’d probably accidentally added too many peppers or used hot sausage or something. 

Will cleared his throat and stood up. “Sorry. Manners. Did you want a beer, or wine or something? Or I’ve got soda.” 

“Oh, if you’ve got a nice red wine, that would be great.” He took a sip of water from the glass already provided to him, then dug back in.

The sound of cabinet doors opening and closing filled the next few moments until Will spoke again. “I’ve got, whatever this is.”

He set a dusty bottle of Merlot on the table and Derek nodded.

“Chill. That’s good.” He wasn’t actually sure if it was a good Merlot; he didn’t recognize the label. He just assumed that Will either didn’t have any other wine or wasn’t willing to share it if he did. 

Will returned a few seconds later with a corkscrew, then frowned at the bottle. “Does this need to be chilled?”

“Nah. It’s probably fine. Reds can be served warmer than whites.”

Will made a sound of understanding, then worked the cork out and poured a glass. “Sorry I don’t have the right glasses.”

“It’s chill. Supposedly the shape of the bowl of the glass makes it taste better, but honestly, I think they just say that to sell more stemware.”

The corner of Will’s mouth twitched up in a smile as he sat back down. A crooked smile had no right being that attractive, but it really did fit with Will’s quiet lumberjack look.

“Also, I know I _just_ said that I’m not picky, but pre-me making my own meals a la microwave, I have had some pretty fancy stuff, and this might be rustic, but it’s seriously sick. Like, this is some good food. It definitely lives up to the smell.”

“Thanks. My ma always said it made me good marriage material.”

“Chill. More of a marriage traditionalist, myself.”

“You believe marriage should be between one man and one woman and it’s the woman’s job to cook?” Will raised an eyebrow at him. “Seems a bit heteronormative.”

“I believe marriage should be to secure assets or alliances.”

“Ah.” Will looked away, back down to his plate. He lifted another bit of food and paused, his next statement seeming almost like an afterthought. “Seems like an odd perspective for a romance writer. I don’t think that was a plot in any of your novels.”

“I knew you read my books.” Derek leaned back grinning. 

There was no way Will could deny it at this point. Surely he hadn’t gotten all that from gossip with the few other residents of the area.

“My sister-in-law’s been telling me about them.”

And there it was. Just when Derek was starting to think Will was cute and fun to be around, Will had to drop in that he was married, like Derek had suspected. Probably why he was defending marriage so hard. Probably to whoever Vicky was. Whatever, Will was straight anyway, it had just been an idle fancy. 

He cleared his throat surreptitiously. “Sister-in-law?”

“Ayuh. Denise.” He said it like it was obvious.

Why wouldn’t it have been? He knew that Derek knew Denice. Denice had been the one to call him to ask him to repair Derek’s washing machine in the first place. Of course he would have expected Denice to have mentioned that Will was married to her sister. Or that she had a sister.

* * *

Derek collapsed into the second chair behind the staff counter at the library. He wasn’t supposed to be back there, but really, there was never anyone working with Denice and she’d stopped complaining weeks ago.

“Next time you send a hot repair guy to my cabin, can you make it someone single and into men?”

Denice didn’t look up from the books she was processing. “As opposed to?”

“Will. Also, why didn’t you tell me you have a sister?”

At that, Denice did stop working to look up at him with a frown. “Because I don’t? Just the two brothers we’ve already talked about back in New York state.” 

Nursey snorted. “If you only have brothers, then there’s another Denice in the area.” He paused. “Or Will lied about having a sister-in-law named Denice.” 

That didn’t make sense. Why would he lie about that? He could have come up with a different excuse for knowing about Derek’s books if he didn’t want to admit to reading them himself.

“No. Will’s my brother-in-law. But Vicky isn’t _my_ sister. She’s his.”

“What?”

“Vicky’s my wife. Will’s sister.” She reached over and patted his leg. “The last time I sent a hot repair guy to your cabin, I made sure it was someone single and into men. Pay attention.”

* * *

Derek stared at the microwave over the top of the counter where he was still crouching. It had finally stopped shooting sparks and was just emitting an acrid smelling smoke. 

Somehow, his first thought was that he had to make sure Denice didn’t hear about this. She’d never believe it wasn’t intentional, but it was an honest accident.

His second thought was an odd surety that there was no way the microwave could be repaired, even by Will. 

Still, he snuck out of the kitchen to the den and picked up the phone to dial hashtag five.

“Hello?”

“Will? My microwave exploded just a little. I realize you probably can’t fix that, but….”

“But you don’t know how to cook anything without a microwave.”

“I might manage if I had something _to_ cook some other way.” He wasn’t lying. He could probably manage a sandwich.

He just wasn’t sure what the dials and numbers on the stove and oven did. He’d never had to use them. He was used to being able to summon delicious food from any culture directly to his door. 

Will’s sigh was soft, like he’d turned away from the phone first. “Yeah. Give me a few. I don’t have a replacement microwave or anything, but I can take care of the busted one and bring you something to eat.”

“Well, if you’re bringing food over anyway, you could just eat here with me, if you wanted.”

The line was silent for a long time and Derek thought that maybe the call had dropped or something. But he thought that there was usually a tone on landlines when that happened. 

“Yeah. That would be, that would work. I’ll be over in a few.”

Derek smiled as he hung up the phone. Then he double checked that the call was disconnected by picking it up to hear the dial tone and hung it up again. 

“It’s a date.”


	4. Chapter 4

The snow had finally stopped and Will opened his door to start digging his way out. He’d tried to keep the porch clear, but there was only so much one man could do in the face of a blizzard, so there was still quite a bit of work just to get everything manageable around his front door. There was no way he could hope to dig out his truck and the roads wouldn’t be clear anyway. 

Strictly speaking, he didn’t need to leave his cabin and wouldn’t for awhile. He had plenty of food, wood, fuel for the generator, fresh water. He’d been through enough bad storms to have an emergency stock to start and he’d prepared ahead of time for this one.

The problem was that, having known him for a few months at this point, he was almost completely certain that Derek had probably underestimated what he’d need. And, probably more importantly, he’d get bored of being snowed in alone and would try to either hike through the snow to Will’s cabin or would try to drive his fancy car without snow tires or chains and would end up getting hurt with no one knowing where he was.

He might not have been being very fair to Derek. Derek might not have experience with storms up Maine, but he wasn’t an idiot. 

Still, Will couldn’t shake the image of Derek alone, freezing and starving.

So, he loaded supplies onto a sled, dressed in his warmest hard freeze gear, and put on his snowshoes. The hike wasn’t a short one in the best of conditions and this was far from the best of conditions. At one point he had to hunker down and wait as the wind picked up, blowing the fresh snow into whiteout conditions again. Luckily, it didn’t last more than a quarter of an hour or so and he was able to resume his trek.

When he knocked on the door to Derek’s cabin, he wasn’t expecting to be screamed at and the door slammed in his face, but that’s what happened. He wasn’t really sure what to do. He’d thought that they’d been getting closer, they usually spent at least one evening a week together at one cabin or the other, talking, watching tv, playing games. But if Derek was going to shut him out in the snow…. No. It didn’t make sense.

He knocked on the door again. “Derek?”

The door opened slowly, the chain lock engaged and the end of a hockey stick poking out. “Yeti’s talk? How do you know my name?”

“Dammit, Derek. It’s Will. Can you please let me in out of the cold?”

The hockey stick disappeared and was replaced with part of Derek’s face leading through the gap. “Will? You’re a yeti?”

“No?”

“Oh! Oh, chill. Just a second.” The door closed and reopened fully a moment later.

Once he was inside and the door was shut (though Derek continued to hold the hockey stick), he pulled down his hood and then lifted his balaclava to raise an eyebrow. “A yeti? Seriously?”

He kept his eyes on Derek while continuing to remove the outermost layers of his cold weather gear.

Derek, for his part, finally put the hockey stick in a corner. “Ch’yeah, well. I don’t know what other cryptids live in the area besides the bush head one.”

“Bush head one?”

“Yeah. Huge, brown, four legged, has a bush on its head. Saw it-” He paused and blew air out while squinting his eyes. “First time I went to your cabin. Actually, that’s why I was lost. Lucky I found your cabin.”

Will had stopped sorting through the supplies he’d brought and was staring at Derek in shock. Slowly, he closed his mouth and swallowed hard. “Uh, how big like-” He stretched his hand above his head and then made some rough dimension shapes with his arms.

“Yeah. I think so. I haven’t seen it since.”

“You ran into a bull moose. You ran into a bull moose during rutting season. You ran into a bull moose during rutting season and didn’t know what it was but you didn’t get injured or anything.”

“I mean, I’m a good runner.”

Will shook his head. “That’s not the question. Wow. I’m. Wow. Okay. Really glad I gave you a ride back over here that night.”

Derek just hummed and started helping him unload supplies. “Did your power go out or something?”

That was one of the annoying things about Derek. He couldn’t just accept that Will had trekked over in the snow with supplies. He couldn’t think through that if Will had all the supplies he was bringing over then he would have been fine at his own cabin without electricity. He couldn’t figure out _why_ Will had come over on his own. He couldn’t even just assume that Will was just trying to be a good neighbor if he didn’t think of Will as more than a neighbor. No, he had to specifically ask.

“Nah, I’m fine. Just, just bringing you some supplies to make sure you’re good.”

“I know I’m just a city boy or whatever, but I do know how to buy the stuff on the list you gave me. I do actually have battery powered lanterns of my own now.” He was holding two of the ones that Will had packed onto the sled as he said it.

“I-.”

“You thought I’d be here shivering in the cold waiting for someone to save me?”

“No. I thought, yeah, you probably have enough supplies and don’t need anything from me, and I definitely had enough supplies. But I thought that I _could_ wait out until the roads were cleared, but I don’t know if _you_ could. Not because of some moral failing, just because you like to talk to people and be around someone who isn’t yourself. So then I couldn’t get the image out of my head of you getting into that stupid fancy car of yours without ice chains while the roads were still greasy and ending up in a drift and no one even knows to look for you, much less where, and-.” He stopped and took a deep breath. “And I like spending time with you, so I came over. And if I was coming over anyway, I might as well bring some extra supplies just to be sure.”

Derek was staring at him with an odd look on his face. He hadn’t moved and was still holding the lanterns. Then he finally nodded to himself and set them down before pulling off a box of foodstuff. “Makes sense. We’ll need more food for the two of us than if I was by myself.”

It wasn’t what he was expecting, and Will focused on unloading the rest of the supplies while he gathered his thoughts. “You don’t-. I don’t-.” He stopped and shook his head before starting over. “I can go back to mine. I wasn’t trying to invite myself to stay. I just wanted to-.”

“To check on me. Because you were worried about me dying. And because you like my company. I know.” He turned and smiled at Will in a way that made Will’s heart stutter. “You don’t have to stay, but you can. And if you do, you should probably know that I prefer the right side of the bed.”

Will was speechless, his mouth opening and closing before he managed to pull himself together. “Are you saying what I think-”

“I’m _saying_ that once we get this stuff put away, I’d like to kiss you, if you’re into that.”

“Ayuh. I’m into that. Yes. That is a thing I’d be into.” He picked up as much as he could carry and took it further into the cabin so that he could figure out where it needed to go.


	5. Chapter 5

Derek woke up alone in his bed. He hated waking up alone. It rarely happened in the year and a half since he first asked Will to spend the night. Or at least, it happened less often than waking up with Will did. But, still, sometimes he woke up alone in his bed and he hated it.

He used to love it. He could roll over, stretch out, go back to sleep, with no one moving around, stealing the blankets, making comments about how late it was. His life was his to do whatever he wanted with no one interfering. Even when he dated someone, even when he dated them for awhile, he’d always enjoyed having the bed to himself just as much as he enjoyed sharing it.

Until now. Until Will.

Once he was out of bed, it was better. 

Will had work and he had writing to do. Actually, he had editing to do, which wasn’t as fun, but his publisher wanted another round of edits on his latest manuscript. Either way, they both had work to do and there was plenty to keep Derek occupied. 

Most of the edits requested were minor changes that he could rework fairly easily. Rewriting some sentences for readability or reworking a scene to change the tone a bit. But there was one major change they requested, a complete rewrite of the proposal and wedding. 

He took a break at that point. It seemed like a good time for lunch, so he reheated some soup that Will had prepared a few days before and made a grilled cheese sandwich on the panini press. It might seem like a small thing to other people, but it really hadn’t been that long ago that he’d have just put the bread in the toaster then melted the cheese between the toast by microwaving it, so he was pretty proud of his little homemade lunch. After the break, he took a mug of tea with him back to his desk and settled in to figure out how to rewrite the scenes and capture the tone he wanted for it. 

He didn’t look up again for hours. He’d written and discarded at least half a dozen different variations of the proposal. Technically, he hadn’t discarded them. He’d saved them in a separate file. The point was, he couldn’t make it work. Why was his character proposing? He’d never had a problem just fudging it before, but now it felt like he needed to understand the motivation. It just wasn’t enough for them to propose so the book could have it’s happily ever after. 

What finally drew him out was when his stomach growled and he realized that he smelled something cooking. At least, he hoped something was cooking and not something was on fire. He was holding his tea up to his mouth because he’d been absent mindedly about to take a sip, and when he completed the action, he was surprised to find that it was hot. Not scalding, not burning his tongue, but still quite warm. Warmer than tea he’d made hours before had any right to be. 

The mystery was solved when he followed the smell into the kitchen to see Will there, cooking. He looked a lot like he had nearly two years before when Derek had first managed to hike his way over to Will’s cabin. 

“Hey, babe. Edits kicking your ass?”

“Ch’yeah. How’d you know?”

Will lifted a shoulder in a shrug and went back to stirring whatever was on the stove. “Your tea mug was empty but you kept lifting it like you were taking a drink.” 

“You refilled it?”

“Ayuh. You say you work better with tea.”

“I missed you.”

Will turned and gave him a small, crooked smile. “It was one night, babe. Well, actually, it will be two nights.”

“Two?”

“Yep. This project isn’t quite complete, so I’ll probably be up all night on it. But, I figured I had earned a break while some code compiled and I would come over and have dinner with my boyfriend.” With that statement, he leaned over the island to where Derek was sitting and gave him a kiss. 

“You should move in with me.”

“I basically already have.”

Derek sighed and looked out the window. “I know. But, you should actually move in with me. Move all your stuff over.”

“We’ve talked about this.”

“I’m not-. I’m not saying to sell your cabin. I know it was your uncle’s and it’s important to you and I’m not trying to suggest that again. I just, I like waking up with you. And you could live here and use your cabin as like a work office still. That way you’d have your own space. I know I can be-”

“Stop.”

“What?”

Will closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Then turned a knob on the stove and moved the pot that was there before pulling up a seat with Derek. “You are wonderful. Don’t apologize for being you. I need down time because of who I am, but that does not ever mean that I want you to be anything other than who you are.”

He paused and looked down at his hands for a moment. Derek wasn’t sure if he was thinking or if he was done. Honestly, Derek wasn’t sure he could have continued his pitch about moving in together again if he wanted. He’d already brought it up poorly, but Will seemed to be rolling with that. No, the problem was remembering that Will had seen him being Extra ™, had seen it multiple times, and never tried to get him to tone it down or stop. Maybe it was because they were in the middle of nowhere, Maine, but he could actually be himself with Will. Something none of his exes had been accepting of. Not to that extent.

“You’re right, I won’t sell my cabin. And you’re right that relationships should fit what the people in them want at the time. So, yeah. Ok. I’ll officially move in with you, and commute to my cabin for work each day.”

“Sick. Thank you, babe.” Derek picked up one of Will’s hands and kissed the palm. 

“You know this effectively changes nothing, right? I literally already basically lived here.”

“It does change things. Now you’re my live-in boyfriend. Much more scandalous.” 

Will smiled again and stood up to finish preparing the meal. “Be careful. Next thing you know we’ll be domestic partners.”

* * *

Derek threw a rubber band ball in the air then caught it. “I just don’t get it.”

“Mmhmm.” Denice was working apparently. There had been a big bunch of books donated to the library and they had to be sorted and entered into the collection and stickers put on them or whatever.

“Like, usually I just write the characters as deciding to get married and that’s it and it’s fine. But, I don’t know. It’s not working this time. Why would they decide that?”

“I mean, that’s basically it. Just go with it.”

Derek turned his head slightly to give her a look but then misjudged catching the rubber band ball and nearly fumbled it. “What’s nearly it? Why do people decide to get married? Beside for politics and power and stuff, obvs.”

“Can’t speak for everyone, but for me, I just wanted to marry Vicky.”

“Not actually helping.”

“Fine. I knew I loved her a lot. I knew I wanted to go to bed with her every night and wake up with her every morning. I knew that I wanted to do that as long as possible. I could imagine growing old with her and when I imagined life without her, it just, didn’t feel as bright as imagining life with her.”

“Chill. But none of that requires marriage. Like, I feel all that about Will. Why would they want to get married instead of just, like, moving in together?”

Denice set down the book she was working on and looked at it for a moment. He was pretty sure she wasn't just fascinated with an unsolved mysteries book about missing professional athletes, or with Jack Zimmermann's face. “It’s stupid.”

Derek could have said something, prodded her, but he wasn’t really sure what to say.

Luckily, she continued, “The thought of introducing her as my wife just made me really happy. Like, warm, butterflies, all those cliche things.”

“Hmm, warm butterflies. Chill.”

He was not surprised when the flat of the book hit against his shoulder. It wasn’t hard enough to hurt, or anything, so he didn’t think she was really mad.

“Thanks, Denice. I’ll see you next week.”

“Sure, sure.”

When he was safely in his Land Rover with the door shut, he checked the area just to be sure no one was around. The he tried whispering it to himself. “My husband, William Poindexter.” He paused then whispered again. “My husband, William Nurse.”

With a deep breath, he started the vehicle. He needed to get home and make some calls.


	6. Chapter 6

“Do you want to get married?”

Will looked at Derek in confusion while his mind raced and his heart forgot to beat. “Are you breaking up with me?”

He managed to pull himself together. It wasn’t like he expected them to be together forever. He knew Derek’s philosophy. He just knew he wanted to still be in a relationship with Derek. He still loved Derek.

“No. Why would you assume that?”

“Because we’ve talked about marriage before? We both know where we stand on it? You know that I think of marriage as compromise, commitment, and companionship. That I think it’s people promising to take care of each other and work through whatever life throws at them together. That even if they do divorce, they will have tried. And that it offers legal benefits such as setting a next of kin and access to hospital visits and whatever.”

Derek nodded patiently.

“And you know that I know that you don’t think of it like that. You think that we don’t have any way to tell the future or what we’ll want. That marriage has historically been used to subject and trap marginalized people in legal contracts they had no recourse to break especially without serious injury to themselves, physically, socially, financially. You think that people can just be committed to each other and take care of each other for as long as they feel that way with no need for a legal contract that will eventually hurt one or the other of them.”

He paused for a breath before pushing on. “And I _get_ that. I love you. Ok. I love you, Derek. And as long as you want to be in a relationship with me, then I want to be in one with you, including commitment and compromise and working through what life throws at us. And you don’t want a legal contract, and I’m fine with that. I’ve always been fine with that. So, you ask me if I want to get married, knowing that you don’t, and. My answer is no. No, I don’t want to get married because that means this relationship ends and I’m not ready for it to.” He paused again and licked his lips. “Unless you are. I won’t make it hard on you.”

Derek gave him a small smile and a sigh, then suddenly he’d slipped off the sofa and was on his knees on the ground. No. He was on one knee on the ground, holding a small velvet box and Will’s hand. 

“Will, do you want to get married _to me_?”

His heart forgot how to beat again and he nearly forgot how to breathe. “You don’t believe in marriage.”

“Turns out, maybe I do.”

“I don’t, I don’t have any assets to secure.”

“That’s fine. I’m kind of thinking it would be nice to secure my assets as belonging to you, too.” Derek opened the box, revealing a very nice ring. A ring too nice for Will to ever actually wear anywhere. “Will, will you marry me?”

Will took a deep breath. This was really happening. He was pretty sure this was really happening. He needed to answer Derek. He’d asked three times now, he deserved an answer. “Yes. Of course.”

“Chill. Chill. That’s sick.” Derek suddenly relaxed and smiled up at him for a second before standing up and leaning in to give him a kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. Always will do.”

* * *

Will lay in the early morning light, watching how the ‘golden hour’ burnished the skin of Derek’s back and arms and lit up his hair. He couldn’t see much more because Derek was lying across his chest and had their legs intertwined. He didn’t want to move because it would wake Derek up, so he watched him sleep from where he was.

His fiance.

He decided that he’d ask Derek about it later that day.

* * *

They were curled up on the couch watching some old black and white movie when he decided he couldn’t put it off any longer.

“Hey, Derek?”

“Hmm?”

He reached into the chest pocket of his flannel and pulled out the ring inside. “I wanted to talk to you. Like, looking at each other kind of talk.”

Derek slowly sat up and turned to face him, seeming to relax when he saw the ring in Will’s hand. “It doesn’t count as proposing to me when I already proposed to you.”

Still, he held out his hand and Will slid the ring onto his finger with a grin. “I realize that. But I thought you might like wearing a ring, too.”

“So, you do still want to get married?”

Will’s smile immediately dropped into a confused frown. “Yeah? Of course. Why would-?”

“It’s just, you don’t wear your ring. I mean, I know you put it on in the evenings when you’re here with me.”

“It’s a really nice ring. Nicer than anything else I have probably. I just-.” He stopped and took a deep breath. “I don’t want to mess it up? And also, some of the work I do makes wearing rings dangerous. Conducting electricity, or getting caught on something or being crushed by something. I mean, mostly I’m worried about messing it up. I would probably survive losing a finger and the alloy probably isn’t a great electrical conductor so electrocution’s a small risk anyway-.”

“Shit, babe. No. I’m sorry. I didn’t think about the fact you do all the appliance repair stuff, too. I can replace the ring. Fuck. Don’t worry about the damn ring.” Derek took Will’s hand and kissed the fingers. “Would like to keep you in one piece.”

“I do wear the ring. All the time. Except shower and sleeping. But I do. I’ve got a cord I wear around my neck that I put it on.” 

“Chill. It’s fine. It’s good. If I had thought about it, or asked you, I just. I don’t know. I thought maybe you didn’t want people to know. Or didn’t want to get married at all. Or something.”

Will reached out and ran his fingers over Derek’s cheek and jaw, then pulled him in for a soft kiss that ended with their foreheads resting together. “Of course I still want to marry you. Of course I want people to know.”

“Well, now I get that. And I’ve got this sick wooden ring so people will know.” 

“I’m sorry it’s not gold or platinum or whatever. But my uncle hooked me up with a source for East Indian Rosewood, and I figured, it polishes up pretty nice, so-”

Derek put a hand on his arm and he stopped talking. “You made this yourself?”

“Ayuh. I mean. It’s not got any stones really. Just some old sea glass I found once and some schorl. It’s, uh.” He ducked his head because he knew he was blushing. East Indian rosewood might be a fancy and expensive wood for large pieces, but this was nowhere near what Derek had given him. “It’s nothing really special, but like I said, I thought you might like having a ring to wear, too.”

“Nothing special? Are you kidding me? This is sick. This is- fuck, Will. This is the best thing I’ve ever been given. I can’t believe when people ask me about it I’ll be able to say my fiance _made_ it for me.”

Derek had managed to flow into Will’s lap, so he wrapped his arms around him with a smile.

“That kind of leads to my next question. You do want to tell people we’re engaged?”

“Obvs.”

“I mean. I know that the whole town knows. But like, our families and stuff.” 

“Well, ch’yeah.”

Will nodded. “Alright. I wasn’t sure. I mean. We haven’t talked about the actual wedding and getting married part.” He rushed on, “I mean, not that we have to yet. A long engagement is fine. We don’t have to plan anything for months, years even. Ever.”

“I don’t-” Derek looked at him thoughtfully and tilted his head. “I don’t really want to take years. I never planned for this situation, so I don’t have any idea what I want. I guess it didn’t really occur to me that weddings require planning.”

Will couldn’t physically stop the eyeroll at that statement, but Derek just laughed at it anyway.

“Chill. I know. Anyway, I guess we could get one of those planner people to help.”

“That makes sense. My ma will want to meet you before the wedding. Probably some of my uncles, too.”

“Oh, chill. You should probably meet my family, too. But it’s not like we need to do that this week.”

“We’ve got time.”

“At least until whatever place we pick is available.”

Will rolled his eyes again and shook his head. “Maybe not that long.”

“Fine. Sure. Okay. Chill.” Derek blew out a long breath. “Can you take time off work and we can make a trip of it? Visit your fam and mine. Maybe start with a little engagement celebration vacay just the two of us.”

“How is a vacation different from living in the willie wacks just the two of us?”

“For starters, you won’t leave for work or to fix every appliance in the county. Secondly, someone else will do the cooking and cleaning.”

“You know what? That’s a good point. Sold. Let’s go on a vacation together.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that there is a bit of a tonal shift in this chapter as the mystery starts.

“Did you have to pick a place in Mass?”

“Chill, Will. It had good reviews.”

“We’re going to be surrounded by Massholes. This is why Ma always said never let people from away pick where you stay.” 

Derek didn’t comment on that. Will might be complaining about the state that the bed and breakfast was in, but he was also arranging their bags so that he could try to take as many up in one trip as possible. It wasn’t like he was refusing to stay at the place. And the reviews had made it sound really nice. Queer friendly and daily pie.

“Is your ma going to have a problem with me?” He hoped not. 

He wanted Will’s family to like him. It was encouraging that Vicky was married to Denice. It was probably encouraging that Vicky was married to Denice. Either Will’s family was chill with them being queer and marrying black people from New York (the state at least, maybe they’d have a problem with the City), or that was why Will and Vicky lived so far away from the rest of their family. 

Either way, they’d both agreed that their moms would kill them if they got married without inviting at least their families, and that they needed to actually meet each other’s family. It would probably be fine. Probably.

He looked over at Will, who had finally arranged the bags so that they could take them all in without too much strain. 

“Don’t see why she would.” He flashed a quick smile before heading toward the door of the b and b. “She’ll probably like you more than she likes me. And to be clear, I’m her favorite child. Just don’t tell Vicky I said that.” 

No matter what their families thought, he was definitely going to marry that man.

Derek followed Will into the lobby, but let him check them in since the owner or whoever had already greeted him.

“Okay, Mr. Nurse, you two will be in our master suite. King size bed with en suite bathroom. No sharesies. And of course, daily breakfast is included as is pie, any time of the day. We also offer turn down service, laundry, and you can add on lunch and dinner, just let me know ahead of time.” 

Will smiled at the short blond man. “Thanks. It’s Poindexter, actually.”

The man’s entire demeanor changed instantly as he frowned. “You said the reservation was under Nurse.”

Lifting his hand in a salute, Derek stepped up next to Will. “That’s me. Derek Nurse.”

“You two aren’t married?”

It was a weird thing to say. Surely people vacationed with datemates and friends and whoever they wanted all the time. 

“Uh, not yet.” He deliberately lay his hand on the top of the check in counter so that the ring knocked against it. “We’re celebrating our engagement.”

Then the smile and cheery demeanor was back like a switch had been flipped. “Oh! Well that’s alright then. That’s just wonderful. You will definitely have to try my blueberry pie. It’s just perfect for celebrating. Now, Adam will take your bags and show you up to your room. And like I said, if you decide you want to eat any other meals here, just let me know so I can make sure there’s enough to go around.”

A much larger blond man stepped out of the hallway and reached for the handle to the bags that Will was pulling, but Will kept his grip and just raised his brows at the man, Adam presumably.

“I think we’ve got the bags, if you can just show us up?”

Adam shrugged without a word and turned toward the stairs.

As soon as they were in the room and the door was shut behind them, he left the bags he’d been in charge of and wrapped his arms around Will’s waist to nuzzle against the side of his neck. “You know, I could get used to people calling you Mr. Nurse. Didn’t hate it at all.”

Will snorted in response. “You don’t even like it when people call _you_ Mr. Nurse.”

“I just wanted you to call me by my first name.”

“Really? We’d barely met. Although, you were half naked.”

“You know that was an accident. A happy accident. Besides. When people call me Mr. Nurse, they’re linking me to my father. When people call you Mr. Nurse, they’re linking you to me.”

“So, I’m taking your name, then?”

“I just said I didn’t hate it. We can take your name. Mr. and Mr. Poindexter. William and Derek Poindexter.”

Will leaned back against his chest, holding his arms in place. “No hyphenating, then?”

“That’s also chill.”

“Do you think that bed is as soft as it looks?”

“Only one way to find out.”

* * *

They didn’t leave the room again until breakfast the next morning. 

It shouldn’t have felt so monumental. They’d been living together; it wasn’t the first time that he’d woken up in Will’s arms or the first time they’d held hands on the way to breakfast. They’d been engaged for awhile, too, so even that wasn’t really new. 

Still, he was grinning like they’d just gotten engaged as they headed down the stairs to breakfast. 

He wasn’t entirely shocked when the shorter blond man from the day before greeted them in the breakfast area. 

“Look at you two lovebirds. Grinnin’ like a possom eatin’ a sweet tater. We just love couples here. If I could, well, I’d just fill the place right up with happy couples.” He smiled at the two of them briefly then put plates with blueberry pie in front of them. “You boys planning to hole up in your room again all day?”

“Nah. We’ve got a walking tour scheduled and then I thought it would be chill to check out some of the sick galleries and stores downtown.”

“Sounds like you’ve got a busy day ahead of you. Well, if you need some seconds on that pie, you just give me a holler, okay?”

Derek stared after him as he wandered off, then down at his plate. “I know the review said there was daily pie, but I didn’t think that meant it was the breakfast.”

“Is it just me, or is Eric… odd?”

“Eric?” Derek looked up at Will, who was still looking toward the doorway. 

“The owner.”

“Why do you think he’s odd?” He figured he might as well try the pie for breakfast, so he picked up his fork and dug in.

“Just. The way he kept going on about liking couples. And how upset he got yesterday when I said we weren’t married yet.

Derek reached over and covered Will’s hand with his own. “Hey, babe. It’s probably a Southern thing, right? The reviews all mentioned how friendly this place was for queer couples, maybe he just goes out of his way to be extra accepting after growing up with people being weird about it?”

“I guess.” With a sigh, Will set his fork down. “It’s too early for me to eat pie. Do you want to see if they have something else in town before the tour?”

“Sure thing, babe. Let me just run back up to the room and get my notebook. In case I get inspo.” 

Will leaned over and gave him a brief kiss. “I’ll wait for you in the little, uh, sitting room? Drawing room? Whatever it is with the bay window.”

Derek wasn’t trying to eavesdrop. He had no reason to eavesdrop. He didn’t know the people in this little town. But the combination of being a novelist picking up inspiration from random bits of life and spending the last two years in a different small town where he must have picked up habits about gossip meant that he slowed down as he walked past the doorway in the back hall and heard Eric talking. He justified his quietness as being polite. He just didn’t want to interrupt someone’s phone conversation.

“Justin? The gentleman in room three checked out early. Yes, Adam is seeing to that, but he could use your help making sure everything’s taken care of.”

It wasn’t even interesting gossip to overhear, which meant it would have been really easy to convince himself that he really had just been being polite. Except that he passed the room marked number three on his way to their room and the door was ajar. And he peeked in, just a little bit. 

He didn’t know what he expected to see. A messed up bed. Maybe the entire room demolished like the stories about musicians at hotels. What he didn’t expect to see was a suitcase still open and full of clothes on the luggage rack between the door and the dresser or the toiletries and wallet on the dresser itself.

With a frown, he hurried on to grab his notebook and back downstairs. There was probably a logical explanation, but he was still planning to get Will’s opinion. 

Will, confusingly, was not waiting in the drawing room like he’d said, instead he was in the foyer and pacing nervously until he looked up and saw Derek approaching.

“Ready? Okay. Great. Wicked awesome. Let’s go now.” Will took him by the elbow and started walking quickly out of the door towards the parking lot. “We should take the car. It would be great to take the car to the walking tour because well, we don’t know how tired we’ll be after it and also, you’ll probably buy something from the shops and we’ll need a way to get it back here. So, the car. Wicked great.”

He hadn’t stopped talking the entire way until they were in the Land Rover and the doors were shut, so Derek just turned to look at him. Will had been suppressing his Mainer accent, so letting it out this strong seemed concerning.

“Something wrong?”

“There was a body. There was a dead body.”

“What?”

“The window seat. It wasn’t latched, right? Ok, sometimes that happens, usually some warping of the wood, sometimes it’s something that you can just open it and reclose it and it adjusts itself and then it’ll latch. Other times it needs some actual work done on it. But I see it’s not latched, right?” Will’s hands were on the wheel but he wasn’t gripping it tightly or anything. 

“Right.”

“So, I figured, I’d try to reclose it so no one got hurt or messed it up more. And if it was something that needed a permanent solution, I could let Eric and Adam know. They probably know how to fix it, or I could fix it for them.”

“But.”

“But when I opened it to reclose it there was a dead body inside.” Will turned to look at him and let out a breath that seemed to take some of the tension with it. 

“You’re sure? Could have been, idk, a Halloween decoration?”

“Ayuh. Seen dead bodies before. It was a dead body. And it’s not Halloween.”

“Well, ch’yeah. That’s why it would have been in the storage area.”

Will nodded, then started the vehicle and shifted gear to exit the parking lot. “It’s ok, though. You’re out, so it’s ok.”

“Our stuff’s still there. We have to go back. But, we should probably tell the cops?”

Barely taking his eyes off the road, Will turned to give him a skeptical look.

“I agree, but, a dead body kind of requires it.”


	8. Chapter 8

Will picked up the paper cup of coffee that had been placed in front of him, but didn’t take a sip. It smelled burned and old, sour and bitter. Police station coffee. He turned it around in his hands while the constable, apparently the only police officer in the town, sat behind the worn wooden desk and looked from him to Derek. 

The cop, who’s name patch declared him to be B. Knight, ran his fingers over his mustache and leaned back in his chair before finally speaking. “Let me see if I’ve got this right. You,” he paused to point at Derek, “eavesdropped on a private phone conversation between Mr. Bittle and parties unknown, then trespassed into a room other than that which you have contractual access for to jump to the conclusion that another guest at the Bittle Bed & Breakfast had not in fact checked out early. Even though, it is entirely reasonable that the gentleman in question had an emergency that required him to checkout without his belongings and have them sent after him. And you,” this time he pointed at Will, “illegally accessed and searched non public areas of the inn and found what you claim is a dead body, even though there are no missing persons reports and no reason to believe such a body would be on the premises of the BBB. Do I have that correct?”

Beside him, Derek let out a long breath through his nose. “No. I didn’t _trespass_ anywhere. The door was open and I could see the person’s belongings from the hallway. Even if he’d had an emergency, he would have at least taken his _wallet_.”

“Not only was I in a public area of the inn, but I didn’t illegally access or search anything. And why would there be a missing person’s report for someone who possibly died within the past twelve hours while on vacation alone? Who would even know they were missing to file the report?”

The cop raised his eyebrows at them and sucked his teeth, but didn’t seem swayed. “The thing is, Bitty is a respected member of this community. The two of you, on the other hand, I don’t know from Adam. So, you come in here, casting aspersions on a beloved resident, and, if I may be frank, sounding like a couple of bigoted cockholes. This won’t be the first time that homophobic tourists have tried to besmirch the good name of Eric Bittle and his inn, but not on my watch.”

“What? You aren’t even going to investigate a possible death? A possible homicide?”

“All I’ve heard is evidence of slander. You want me to investigate a murder, bring me evidence.”

Will set the cup back down before he spilled it or something, then stretched his fingers out over his thighs. “Isn’t finding evidence _your_ job?”

Derek leaned forward slightly, his tone shifting in a way Will hadn’t heard him use before. “Surely, a simple visit to the inn to check the window seat isn’t too much to ask. Isn’t a report of a dead body probable cause to justify that much of a search? Especially with the seat not latched. That should provide you with the evidence that you are requesting. Unless you expect us to tamper with a possible crime scene by dragging a body down here directly.”

It still took them another half an hour to convince the cop to go down and just look around. He still wouldn’t commit to looking in the window seat, but if Will had to open it himself, he would.

Which is what he ended up doing. 

Will stared into the empty space under the seat. It was big enough to hold a person, or a body. Not comfortably, but he figured the dead didn’t care. But it was also completely empty.

“Like I said. Only evidence I’ve seen is for slander. Take your homophobic bullshit elsewhere and don’t bother me with any more false reports.” Constable Knight stroked his mustache again, then walked out of the drawing room. 

“Doc Oluransi, imagine running into you here. How are you? Tell me, when are you going to-” The constable’s voice carried through the open door as he moved through the foyer, before it faded away as the front door closed behind him.

Will let the seat fall shut and turned to Derek. It took a lot of effort to drag his eyes up to meet Derek’s. “There really was, I wasn’t lying. There was.”

Derek wrapped his arms around him and rocked him slightly. “I believe you. I believe you.”

“Was that Byron Knight I saw? My goodness! What was the police doing here?” Eric’s voice approached behind them.

Straightening his back, Will took a deep breath and turned his back to Derek so he was facing Eric. “I was filing a police report.”

“Oh my. That sounds serious. What happened?”

“Something was stolen out of our car. A bauble that belonged to my mother. The police don’t think they’ll find it, and it wasn’t worth much, just sentimental value, so it’s not a high priority. But, you know.”

“Well, bless your heart. Why don’t I cut you both a slice of pie to help you feel better?”

Will felt Derek’s hand on his shoulder and reached up to hold it. “Thank you, but I think we’ll probably just go up to our room for now.”

He wrapped his arm around Derek, then fell behind him slightly as they moved around Eric who stayed where he was standing. Will wasn’t sure who to trust and who to suspect, but he knew that if bodies were dropping and disappearing that he didn’t want anyone near Derek.


	9. Chapter 9

Derek stared at the cherry pie on his plate. It wasn’t that he had a moral issue with pie for breakfast. It wasn’t even that he didn’t like cherry pie. That was fine. It was just that Will had found a dead body on the premises the day before and then it had gone missing. 

He was pretty sure the pie wasn’t poisoned. The reviews would have mentioned if the proprietor was poisoning the pies, surely. 

But he was especially curious why he hadn’t been given an option for breakfast, but there was another guest at the table next to him similarly staring at a cheese danish.

He leaned over and whispered sotto voce, “At least yours is a breakfast pastry.”

The man startled and looked up at him, then glanced at his pie. “I guess you’re right. It’s just, I’m allergic to dairy. This will actually kill me.”

“Shit. Not chill. Do you want to trade?” Derek held up his plate.

“No. I think. I think I’m just going to go back to sleep. You can have the danish. Thanks, man.”

Derek nodded. “I didn’t want to be rude, but you do look like you could use a few more hours.”

The man gave him a wan smile. “That’s what I’m here for. Rest and relaxation. Four more days of sleeping as much as I want before I have to check out and go back to work.” 

Derek looked at the pastry when he was alone. It was probably fine. It hadn’t even been for him. He used his fork to cut off a bite. 

“He’s right in here waiting on you. Just give me a moment to get your b-. What are you doing?” Eric had broken off mid sentence and just taken Derek’s fork out of his hand and the plate with the danish. “This is not your breakfast. The room comes with one meal per person per day. Not two meals. Not someone else’s meal. This was for Mr. Whisk. I do not take kindly to food theft.”

Derek stared at him wide-eyed, then glanced over at Will who was standing behind him and looking more defensive with every second. “He gave it to me. Said it would kill him. Allergic apparently.”

Eric suddenly deflated and pasted on a sugary smile. “Oh, is that so? How careless of me. That would be absolutely terrible. Let me just get this out of here.” 

He disappeared with the plate, leaving Derek to shrug at Will.

“Maybe we should eat in town. We never did get to check out those book shops you wanted to look at.”

* * *

When they got back to the inn that evening, Derek was surprised to see a stranger in the foyer. He’d only caught a glimpse the day before, but he was pretty sure the man talking to Eric was the same person that Constable Knight had called Doc Oluransi.

“Thank you so much for your help again, Justin. Here’s a couple of honey peach pies for your trouble.”

“You know I’m happy to help, bro.” 

Will was clearly trying to indicate they should just go up to their room, but Derek had a bad feeling and wanted to check something first. 

“Hey, Eric. I’ve been worried about Mr. Whisk all day, do you know if he’s feeling any better? I’d knock on his door, but I don’t want to wake him if he’s sleeping again.”

“Oh no, hon. Well, yes, I mean. He seemed to be doing much better. He actually checked out earlier today. I didn’t realize you’d gotten to be so friendly with him. Unfortunate that he didn’t think to say goodbye.”

“Oh, chill. It’s fine. I just thought I’d check. Thanks.”

He let himself be led away then took the stairs ahead of Will. When the door was firmly shut and locked behind them, he fell backward onto the bed. 

“Well, I think Mr. Whisk is dead.”

“Ayuh. But why?”

“He told me this morning he had four more days to rest here before going back to work. Why would he leave early if this was his one chance at catching up on sleep? Plus, Justin is Doc Oluransi who was here yesterday. There’s no way Constable Knight didn’t know that’s who I meant when I said Eric was talking to someone named Justin on the phone.”

Will sat down next to him and put a hand on his thigh. “There’s no way this is all a coincidence, is there?”

* * *

It was weird that he kept ending up downstairs before Will. Will always woke up first, and he took a lot less time to get ready usually. Maybe it was the possibility of a murder mystery driving him to wake up early.

“Checking in alone, then?” Eric’s voice sounded saccharine to his ears as he turned from the stairs to the foyer to see who was around.

“Yep! Just me right now. Hopefully not for long.” The response was an upbeat male voice with a California accent.

It suddenly occurred to Derek that both of the men that they thought had probably been killed had been at the inn alone. Combined with Eric’s frequent comments about how much they loved having couples stay, it did paint a concerning picture for the man who was checking in.

He had planned to find a place to wait outside, but this seemed important, so he headed back to the breakfast area to wait. He methodically destroyed a slice of strawberry cream pie and started to consider that he might have made a mistake. With a California accent, the newcomer would have been feeling jet lag like it was much earlier in the day if he’d just crossed the country. Maybe he was up there sleeping.

He was about to give up and go back upstairs to find Will, or outside to find someplace safer to wait, when a man he hadn’t seen before walked in. 

“Hi!” It was definitely the same guy.

“Hey. Morning.” He put on an apologetic expression. “I couldn’t help overhearing when I came downstairs that you’re here alone, do you want to share my table?”

“Oh, sure. That’s hella swawesome.”

“Derek Nurse. My fiance’s upstairs still.”

“Chris Chow. My wife’s going to be here in a couple of days. Last minute work emergencies, you know?”

“Ch’yeah. I get it. You are very awake.”

“Oh, sorry.”

“Nah, it’s chill. Just wasn’t expecting it. What with the accent.”

“Ooooh. Right. Yeah, I’m from San Francisco, but I’ve been working out of Boston, no jet lag.

“Chill.”

Eric appeared then and put a cinnamon roll in front of Chris. “Why, Mr. Chow, you certainly do seem to make friends faster than a knife fight in a phone booth.”

“Thank you!” Chris smiled up at Eric and Derek tried to match the expression.

Luckily, Chris waited until Eric had left before bemoaning his breakfast. “How did you get pie and I got a cinnamon roll? Not that there’s anything wrong with cinnamon rolls, just. Pie.” 

His voice had faded off while he talked so the last was barely a murmur and he was already starting to eat his roll. Derek wasn’t sure what to say to get him to not eat at the B&B, so he just watched him. 

It probably wasn’t poisoned. Probably. Poison was notoriously difficult to use well. There were variables and factors. It either took ages or was obvious. He was sure of it. Just because people were dying (probably) didn’t mean they were being poisoned (probably).

“I bet Will wouldn’t mind if you joined us sightseeing and stuff around town. Until your wife arrives. If you wanted to.”

“Yeah. That sounds great. Thanks, Derek.”

Will walked into the room with his eyebrows raised. “Well, that explains that at least.”

“Hey babe. This is Chris Chow. Chris, this is my fiance, Will.” 

Will nodded at Chris then leaned his hip against Derek’s chair.

“Explains what?”

“I was given a very serious warning about watching my man, good looking homewreckers, and portents of broken engagements.”

Derek turned to look up at Will to see if this was an actual issue, but he had a smile on his face. “Are you serious?”

“That’s what I was told.”

“You know-”

“I know.”

Chris slowed his chewing and swallowed. “Uh, not that you aren’t attractive and worth trying to break up your engagement, I’m sure! But, I’m married and monogamous.”

“Too bad, babe. No ditching me at the altar. You’re stuck.” 

“Damn, and my plan was so perfect, too. Chat up the first guy in about the right age range I meet.” 

“It was a solid plan. Solid plan. It would have worked too, if not for those meddling spouses.”

Chris was slowly starting to smile. “You guys are funny. So, where are we going today?”

“Oh, right. Babe, Chris is here _alone_ for a couple of days, so I suggested he might want to chill with us.” He really hoped that Will understood what he was trying to imply.

He hadn’t needed to worry. Then again, Will probably would have agreed even if lives weren’t in danger.

“Ayuh. Sounds good. I think we’re trying a brewery tour today? No. A cider mill.”

“Oh! That sounds swawesome.”

Derek nodded in agreement. It did sound like something that would be fun. More fun if he wasn’t worried about people dying and disappearing, but apparently he could only ask for so much out of his vacation.


	10. Chapter 10

Will shot a worried glance at Derek when Chris turned away for a moment, then resumed smiling. 

He was glad that they’d talked Chris into going into town to eat with them again. At first, Chris had claimed he didn’t feel well enough and wasn’t sure he could eat at all. But he seemed to be feeling better after some food away from the inn, and fresh air. 

Cait, Chris’s wife, had been delayed again, and Will was getting worried. Chris was getting worse. Unfortunately, Chris wasn’t willing to leave the bed and breakfast until Cait arrived. Will and Derek had agreed that they needed to stay until everything was figured out.

“Chris, are you sure about this? We can drive to the next town and find a hotel or something. Derek and I will tell Cait where you are when she arrives.”

“I’m fine. You said the cop won’t do anything unless you have evidence. That means I need to get a little bit poisoned.” 

“It doesn’t have to be you.”

Will nodded at Derek’s statement.

“If not me, then who? I’m the best one to do this. I’ve got you guys watching out for me. I’m young and healthy. And I know what poison is being used, so once we’ve got everything tied up with a bow so tight the cops can’t ignore it, I know how to counteract it.”

“I think we’re just worried about how long it’ll take compared to how long you can keep this up.”

“Oh, ch’yeah. If you guys can get this worked out in the next couple of days, that would be hella great.”

Will sighed. “Sure. No pressure.”

“I trust you guys.” Chris smiled at them, then sighed. “But you should probably take me back.”

Will had to concede the point. Even if he believed that the best option was for them all to just drive away and never look back (and he did), taking Chris to another town against his will was kidnapping.

Chris knew the risk he was taking. 

Will and Derek just had to live up to his faith in them. 

Too bad they weren’t detectives.

* * *

“There you are! Come on, Mr. Chow. Up to bed with you. I’ve got some nice soup that will make you feel better real soon.” Eric wrapped an arm around Chris’s waist to steer him toward the stairs, but he turned to throw over his shoulder, “I hope y’all’s little fun was worth it. Obviously the boy is ill and should be in bed with some home cooked meals to make him better. But no, you insist on going out, galavanting around.”

He was still berating them as his voice faded away up the stairs. 

Will sighed and looked at Derek. “So, just gotta figure out a way to prove the food is poisoned and that it was poisoned by Eric, then find someone who’ll listen to us, huh?”

“Ch’yeah. Easy as pie. Can get a sample, no problem.”

“But he’ll claim we put the poison in to frame him.”

“And since he’s local and we’re not, cop’ll believe him.”

“Ayuh.”

“What are you guys talking about?”

Will spun around, eyes wide to see a tall woman with teal eyes standing behind them.

She smiled brightly. “Will and Derek, right? I’m Cait.”

Will blinked and shook his head. “Okay, I know why _I_ feel like I already know you, but how do you know about us?”

She gave him an odd look and held up a cell phone. “He’s told me everything about you guys and what you’re doing.”

“Oh, chill. How did I forget cell phones are a thing?”

Closing his eyes, Will nodded slowly. “Two years of living out of tower range for you. More for me.”

“Right. That’s how.”

“Sucks to be you guys.” Cait wrapped her arms around their necks (which was kind of odd since she was a few inches shorter than them), and walked with them into the inn while she was talking. “Anyway, where is that husband of mine?”

“He’s in room five, up the stairs, on the left.”

There was a clatter of metal on wood, and when Will looked up, Eric was standing in the hallway with a pie tin at his feet.

“Swawes. I need to check in on him. Talk to you guys later.” Cait squeezed her arms to approximate a one armed hug for them both, then took off up the stairs.

“Derek, do you want to go put your journal away? I’ll be up in a minute, I’m just going to help Eric clean up.”

“Chill. Don’t take too long.”


	11. Chapter 11

Derek peeked out of the door to their room, waiting for Eric to leave room five and go back downstairs. As soon as the coast was clear, he tiptoed out and down the hall. Will moved forward at a crouch to look down the stairs as Derek eased the door open and shuffled into the room, then Will backed in after him.

Once they were both in and the door was shut and locked, they stood up.

Chris and Cait were staring at them with bemused smiles. 

“You two are hella Extra.”

“Listen. I know about mysteries ok? I’m a novelist. I know how these things work. The last thing we want is to be discovered by one of the culprits.”

Will nodded, then gave him a weird look. “You’re a romance novelist.”

“Chill. Some of them have a mystery subplot. You’d know that if you read my books.”

“Those are all thefts, not murders, but ok.” 

Will’s knuckles knocked against his and he smiled, because it was true and Will had read his books.

“Speaking of solving mysteries.”

“Right, got a call back from the private lab that we rushed the dropped pie to. Definitely poisoned. Chris, you were right on the type. But also, like we expected, there’s no way to trace who put the poison in from the food sample itself.”

Chris leaned his head back against the pillows propping him up in bed and sighed. “I don’t think I can keep this up much longer.”

“I’d really hoped that it would stop when Cait got here. He kept telling us how much he loves couples, and you two are a couple!” Will’s hands fluttered in a gesture toward Chris and Cait.

“Ch’yeah, but remember how he seemed to think Chris was trying to break us up? Maybe he’s still stuck on that. Like, that Chris was trying to cheat or something.”

The simultaneous snort from both Chris and Cait was louder than it had any right to be.

“Or we’re blaming the wrong guy. Maybe it’s not Eric. Just because he seems to be involved in covering it up and cooks all the food doesn’t mean he’s the one doing the poisoning itself.”

“What we need is actual evidence. Like, if we find the bodies, the cops or sheriff’s office or somebody has to investigate, right?”

Will sighed and sat down in the extra chair in the room. “The problem is that when I had found a body, someone moved it before I could get the cops here. Eric had called Justin over, so he’s probably involved? Maybe Adam, too? The two of them could have taken it anywhere. There’s just. Unless we followed them with another body.”

“Considering the person they’re currently poisoning is my husband, I’d rather not take that route.”

“Ch’yeah. I’m not really in favor of actually dying to catch them. Sorry guys.” Chris smiled at them weakly.

Derek frowned. He didn’t ask how much of the food Chris was eating, he was sure that it was as little as possible. But Chris had been adamant that Eric would be suspicious if he didn’t get sick and sicker. 

He cleared his throat. “Then, we search the building and grounds. If we don’t find anything here, we get Chris out and we’ll see if we can find someone willing to investigate without the bodies.”

“Ayuh. Makes sense. We need to keep Eric and Adam busy, since at least one of them is probably involved. But that still leaves one person to investigate. I can try asking Eric about his recipes.”

“No. I’ll distract Eric. That leaves two people to investigate. They shouldn’t be alone. Just in case.” Chris smiled at them wanly.

It was obvious to people who knew him, ie Derek, that Will was uncertain about agreeing to that, but he nodded, then looked from Cait to Derek. “I guess I’ve got the best chance of distracting Adam. Do you two think you can handle the investigation?”

“I could talk to him about my books or hockey or Broadway or something. Your lockpicking skills might be needed.”

“Nah, I got that covered.” 

Derek looked over with an eyebrow raised and Cait just smirked back at him. 

“Chill. I guess we do this. Sooner’s better, right?”

* * *

The main, open to the public, floors were pretty easy to investigate. There were some locked doors (the office and kitchen and a couple of guest rooms), but Cait made quick work of the locks and it was pretty clear that there weren’t any bodies in the cupboards and filing cabinets when they looked through.

They quickly agreed to check the basement before the attic simply because neither of them had encountered one of those pull down attic stairs that weren’t designed to be as loud as humanly possible. Besides, it seemed like it was probably easier to take bodies down than up. What would they even do with them in the attic? Mummify them? 

Derek briefly wished he had his notebook so he could make a note about a possible plot point for a future book. He was brought back to the present when Cait got the last tumblr and eased the door open. 

The basement was more of a cellar, bare walls and a dirt floor. But importantly, dirt floor that had obviously been disturbed. 

Cait pulled out her cell phone and started recording. “Those are definitely-”

“Fresh graves.”

It took forty-three minutes and a hefty donation to the sheriff’s widows fund for three deputies to arrive at the inn. 

Three hours later, the first body was removed from the site.

By that point, Derek, Will, and Cait were sitting in a waiting room while doctors administered antidote to Chris. Will’s arm was wrapped around his shoulder and they all huddled together on the uncomfortable couch, waiting to hear the outcome.


	12. Chapter 12

They’d stopped so that Derek could buy a new smartphone but Will had declined one of his own. He had a work phone for when he was actually in cell range and didn’t see any reason why he needed another phone that wouldn’t have signal most of the time anyway. Besides, he was driving and Derek could update him with the news he was getting updated from somewhere on his new phone.

“They’re up to at least thirty different bodies now. It’s getting more complicated because of graves on top of graves and some of them are older and basically skeletons now.” 

“Wow. That’s, wow. No one ever looked into it?”

“Apparently Adam and Justin admitted to helping cover it up. Took a plea deal or something probably.”

Will shook his head and rubbed his hands on the wheel to adjust his grip. “I just don’t understand why. Like, Chris hadn’t done _anything_ to Eric. Why try to kill him?”

Derek tapped at the phone a bit. “From what they’ve been able to put together from Adam and Justin’s statements and the bits they’ve gotten from Eric, apparently a while back there was a guest at the inn, a man staying by himself. And Eric was enamored with him, flirted, thought he was flirting back. The guy turned him down pretty harshly in public, lot of no homo kind of stuff. But then Eric found him kissing another man at the B&B. Not a guest.”

The GPS broke in to indicate an upcoming turn, so Will just hummed to indicate he was listening as he changed lanes and signaled his turn.

“Doesn’t sound like they have much more info. Just, Eric started not trusting men staying there alone, maybe?”

“Would explain why he kept saying he liked us being there as a couple.”

“Ch’yeah. I guess. Mad weird though. Still early, they’ll probably figure out more. Although-” Derek broke off thoughtfully, but Will figured he was just thinking and waited it out. “The time frame they’re talking about. Do you remember when that hockey player went missing?”

“You don’t think-”

“It matches. I’m just saying, it could have been him. They’ll test.”

“Damn. We may finally know what happened to Jack Zimmermann.”

“Maybe.”

The GPS told Will to park, so he did. He didn’t look at the buildings around him until he was already out of the Land Rover and getting the bags out of the back. He still didn’t get a chance to look around, instead focusing on the middle aged white man who was discreetly offering him a folded bill with a bland look. 

“Thank you for driving our son. Our staff can take the bags from here.”

Will tightened his grip on the bags he was holding, trying not to obviously pull them away from the person walking up, clearly intending to take them from him. 

Derek was already on the steps leading into the building, wrapped in a hug with a woman that Will guess was his mother. 

“I never would have bought you a cabin in Maine if I’d realized I wouldn’t see you for two years.”

“You could visit me too, Mom.” Derek had his eyes closed and was not paying attention at all.

Will swallowed hard. He didn’t want to interrupt Derek’s reunion with his mother, but the other man was starting to look concerned about the fact he wasn’t relinquishing the bags.

“Uh, Derek?”

Derek straightened up and turned with a smile. “Mom, Dad, this is Will. My fiance.”

At this point, the servant, or whatever they were calling the person, was trying to physically take the bags from Will’s hands and he was forced to physically pull them away and out of the person’s clutches.

“Will, this is my mom and dad.” 

The man, Derek’s dad apparently, gave him an appraising look that clearly indicated he didn’t measure up, but then he gave a tight smile and withdrew the proffered tip. At least it looked like he wasn’t going to start a fight on the street.

Derek didn’t seem to have seen any of the interactions involving Will but he jumped back down the steps and grabbed one of the bags and one of Will’s arms. “We’re going to put our stuff in my room. Freshen up. You know. Traveling all day.”

“Okay, Dere. Tildy will serve dinner at six. We’ll let her know you’ll be joining us.”

“Thanks, mom.” Derek dropped another kiss on her cheek as they passed.

Will’s smile was forced and fixed as he followed Derek, his mind spinning.

By the time they reached Derek’s room and the door was shut, he’d finally sorted out at least a few things. He was pretty sure. 

“You’re rich.”

Derek lifted his head from where he’d dropped onto the bed. “Uh, I guess so. Is that a problem?”

“I’m just, trying to refile some information that I thought I knew.” He took a deep breath. “You said you didn’t own the cabin. That you were just staying there.”

Derek’s head dropped back down onto the bed. “I don’t own it. It’s in my mom’s name. She lets me stay there, though.”

“Your parents owning it still counts as owning it, Derek.”

“No, legally it-. Oh wait. You thought-. Wait, did you not know I was rich?” This time Derek rolled onto his side and watched Will pace back and forth the length of his super king bed.

“I knew you were rich. You’re a popular, best selling author, which okay doesn’t always mean rich. But you could afford to stay at that cabin, so you had to be doing okay, I figured. I didn’t realize you were Capital R Rich.”

For several seconds, the only sound was the rustle of Will’s jeans and his boots on the marble (marble!) of the floor as he strode back and forth.

“Ok. Chill. I don’t really know what to say here. Usually that’s a positive thing for people. Possibly the only part they like about me.”

That finally got him to stop pacing. He scrunched up his nose and turned toward Derek. “People are stupid if they can’t see all the good things to like about you.” He sighed and dropped down to sit on the end of the bed. “Fucking rich. Dammit. Listen, are you sure they didn’t just find you in a satchel on the train? Maybe you’re actually the illegitimate child of their cook and a chef on a steamship or something and they adopted you?”

“Will? Is this an actual problem?” 

When he looked down where Derek was lying, he was reaching out tentatively and seemed legitimately concerned, which was not at all what Will wanted. 

He sighed again and took Derek’s hand. “It’s…. It’s fine. Just, when we visit my family, you’ve gotta claim you’re pro-union even if you aren’t, and we’ll have Vicky and Denice run interference at the wedding.”

“Chill. For what it’s worth, I am pro-union, but more importantly. You do still want to get married then?”

“Of course. I love you, idiot. Always will do.”


	13. Chapter 13

“Do you, Derek Malik Nurse, take William Jacob Poindexter to be your lawfully wedded husband, forsaking all others, until death parts you?”

“Always will do.” He smiled at Will as he said it. At minor break with tradition, but worth it.

The rest of the ceremony seemed to fly by. Exchanging rings, blessing of hands, breaking the glass. But finally, it was over.

“Without further ado, by the power vested in me by the great State of New York, it is my privilege and pleasure to pronounce you husbands. Kiss!”

Derek did not need to be told twice. He stepped in, intent on wrapping an arm around Will’s head and getting his hands into that hair and a good angle on the kiss, but he didn’t make it that far. Will took one step, wrapped his arms around Derek’s waist and pulled him into a dip before joining their lips.

It should have been an awkward kiss. He was suddenly, unexpectedly, horizontal. He was clutching at Will’s shoulders, even though he knew Will wouldn’t drop him. But Will’s lips and tongue were soft, gentle, far too sweet. He opened their lips wider by just opening his and dragging Will’s lips with his own. Somehow, he managed to continue the kiss as Will moved him back into an upright position, but that just gave him the opportunity to wrap a leg around Will’s thigh and finally get his hands into Will’s hair.

“Gentlemen, save some for later. This is the first kiss, not the last.”

He couldn’t help but smile against Will’s lips, even if he didn’t really want to stop kissing him right then.

* * *

“You guys! I’m so happy for you!” Chris wrapped him in a hug immediately. He was very strong for being such a skinny guy.

“Glad you could make it.”

“Are you kidding? We wouldn’t have missed this for anything.” Cait was much more subdued with a one arm hug around Will’s waist. 

“Ayuh. I guess catching a killer together is one way to make friends. Next time, though, just come visit us in Maine.”

Chris pulled back with a comically exaggerated grimace. “IDK guys, Cait said you don’t have cell service.”

“But it would be hella cool if you guys visited us. In Boston or San Francisco.”

“Ch’yeah. We can schedule something after the honeymoon.”

Denice walked over while glancing over her shoulder. “Speaking of the honeymoon, you two should probably go to that. Now. Now’s good. Go now.”

Vicky hurried up after her. “Ayuh. Now’s great. Good time to leave? Right now.”

“Vicky. Denice. What’s going on?”

They didn’t really have to wait for a response because one corner of the reception was getting noticeably louder than the rest and both Vicky and Denice winced as a chair scraped across the floor. 

“Uncle Roy got around us and is talking to Derek’s Aunt Mattie. About labor rights.”

Will looked at him and raised his eyebrows.

After his responding shrug, they gave Chris and Cait, and Denice and Vicky, one last hug goodbye, then snuck out a back exit. 

“Where are we going, anyway?” Will waited until they were in the limo and had pulled away before asking.

“I know it’s kind of cliche, and we can go somewhere else if you don’t like it, but I booked a suite at the Mandarin Oriental Paris.”

Will nodded and gave him a smile. “Just as long as it’s not another bed and breakfast.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SPOILERs Below Do not read unless you want to know who dies.
> 
> Whiskey appears in the fic briefly then disappears and is presumed dead.
> 
> Jack is mentioned as potentially being one of the first victims.
> 
> Bitty is the murderer with Holster and Ransom as accomplices. 
> 
> I'm not trying to claim that Bitty would murder people in canon, he just fit for being a person murdering through food.


End file.
